


All We Wanted

by starkspangledfondue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Superhusbands, divorce threats, lots and lots of angry arguments, pregnant!tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkspangledfondue/pseuds/starkspangledfondue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony had found out that he was pregnant, him and Steve didn't know what to think. They tried questioning how and running experiments, chocking it up to the serum's effects when they couldn't think of anything else. Steve never told his husband, but he thought of it as a sort of miracle for them - a chance at normalcy.<br/>They never expected that their situation could be anything but a precious gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Tony had found out that he was pregnant, him and Steve didn't know what to think. They tried questioning how and running experiments, chocking it up to the serum's effects when they couldn't think of anything else. Steve never told his husband, but he thought of it as a sort of miracle for them - a chance at normalcy. 

They never expected that their situation could be anything but a precious gift.

It was in the third trimester that it happened. Everything had been going so smoothly for them, Tony only going through the usual symptoms of pregnancy. Morning sickness; sore back and feet; complaints about getting fat; cravings that Steve couldn't even begin to understand. Almost too good to be true. Their sex life hadn't even halted, though they had to be gentler.

Tony woke up in the middle of the night to what he thought was a stomachache, a small groan slipping past his lips. It definitely wasn't their unborn son kicking, he'd stopped hours ago. He tried to ignore it, refusing to open his eyes, but it just kept growing stronger. Then he realized that he was sweating - odd, considering both him and Steve were completely nude, but then again he'd felt like he'd been coming down with something. On edge at the thought, he nudged his husband behind him.

"Steve? Cap? I think I have a fever. I need you to get me - oh,  _fuck_ ," he gasped out, and the super soldier instantly woke at the sudden inflection of pain in the brunet's voice.

The blond sat up in bed, worriedly looking down at Tony, asking him what was wrong; he'd stopped responding, though - so focused on the pain that he couldn't process what Steve was asking.

Feeling around the sheets, Captain felt something thick and wet, his heart beating faster and he practically tore them off of his husband. "Jarvis, lights!"

Steve couldn't breathe when he saw the blood. Tony was bleeding so much, and he didn't even understand how - there weren't any visible wounds on him, and it just didn't seem possible for there to be that much unless  -

Immediately, he went into action, calling an ambulance and dressing both him and the brunet, though Tony was still more focused on trying not to cry from how bad he was hurting.

Steve tried not to cry from how terrified he was.

He carried his incredibly pregnant husband to the elevator, trying to block out his whimpers because it killed him that he couldn't do anything to stop it. The ride down and climbing into the back of the ambulance were all a blur for the super soldier, adrenaline pumping faster than ever because the fear of losing Tony was so prominent. He didn't think there was anything that would hurt him more than losing the man he loved.

In a way, he was wrong.

* * *

 

Tony woke up in the hospital the next morning, bleary eyed but feeling so much better than he had hours ago. He saw the blond had rested his head next to his bed and smiled, the anesthetics in his system keeping him still out of it. Absently his fingers stroked through Steve's hair. "Wakey wakey, Cap. It's a new day!"

Steve looked up, and it was then that Tony realized his husband hadn't been sleeping at all - he'd been crying, his eyes red and lower lip gnawed to absolute hell. Even in his anesthetic haze, the genius knew to panic. "Steve? What happened? Why -"

Then it hit him. Normally, this early in the morning he'd be woken up by that fluttering sensation and welcome discomfort of their baby boy moving around inside of him, and they'd coo to him like all parents did, arguing over what they would name him.

Today he felt nothing.

Loking up at his husband for some sort of explanation, Steve only shook his head, unable to say the words out loud. It was too painful, all of the dreams they'd formed over the past 7 months suddenly ripped away from them. Tony, however, managed to say it.

"I lost him."

It came out so weak, so unlike his usual speaking, because he couldn't believe it. He woke up because of a stomachache; how the hell did that make him lose their kid?

Steve could only nod in response, moving to take Tony's hand in his, trying to look anywhere but his husband's considerably smaller stomach. It was horrible enough watching the procedure. "Your blood types weren't compatible. The Serum - and - and the Reactor - everything just -" He stopped there, swallowing hard. The blond had just lost his unborn child, too, but his husband had been the one carrying him. He had to be strong.

At that, Tony lost it. The one thing keeping him alive and the chemicals that made Steve who he was were to blame for them losing the most beautiful thing they could have had. It was sick, it was wrong, and he just couldn't bring himself to understand why.

"I thought I was sick," was all he could choke out in a broken whisper, sobbing into his husband's shoulder. And Steve let himself sob, too.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony was released from the hospital a few days later, the Doctors giving him medications for the physical pain and the numbers of psychiatrists for the mental percussions of a miscarriage. Steve tried not to chew them out for saying the word so soon, his husband visibly flinching when it was mentioned. On the car ride home, they cried together, and Happy tried not to let it show that he was tearing up, too.

There was talk of a funeral for the family and friends, but the media vultures kept them from expressing their grief in public. It pained the blond to see how low people would stoop; how not even the greatest tragedies could stop a reporter from poking and prodding at a bleeding wound. The baby was cremated and a few employees had him placed in a niche. For record’s sake, they named him their original choice. Howard, to symbolize the past they shared and were separating themselves from, and the promise of a new future. Bitterly, the brunet thought his dad would have been proud.

At the team’s request, the couple went to therapy, but the sessions were filled with Tony staring on vacantly and Steve trying his hardest to explain how they were feeling when the genius had locked himself away. For the soldier, that was the greatest pain.

In contrast to years of bickering, and months of his husband complaining about cravings, cramping, and getting fat, there was nothing by silence. In Tony’s eyes, a part of him had died; a part of Steve. One minute there was the promise of new life, a true phoenix rising from the ashes, and the next the magic was gone, the rebirth nothing but a dream.

Tony stopped eating and sleeping, never speaking more than a few words. Clint’s clever quips fell on deaf ears, and no amount of “I love you”s or “It’ll be okay”s from Steve seemed to get through. It even pained him too much to reach for the bottle, a voice he had tucked away into the recesses of his mind wondering if this was punishment for being such a horrible person in the past.

 

* * *

 

After a month of optimism on Steve’s part, the blond found it harder and harder to stay strong. He supported Tony as much as he could, holding him when he cried at night, drying his tears even if he didn’t respond to his touch. When his husband fell asleep at night, too drained to stay awake, the soldier let himself cry, wondering why there were never loving arms holding him anymore and telling him it would all be okay. It was selfish, but he was tired of being the strong one. He’d lost his child, too.

On what would have been Howard’s birthday, Tony nearly went catatonic. He didn’t move, staring on at the wall and occasionally telling JARVIS to make the room colder, hoping that it would make Steve leave the room. The grieving father wanted to be alone.

Steve didn’t understand, growing frustrated in his grief – and even more hurt than the man he loved would use his aversion to lower temperatures as a ploy to make him leave. He nearly left, getting up from the bed where he’d been trying to coax Tony to at least curl up to him to comfort the brunet, but he paused before he did, turning to his husband. Misdirected anger, spite, pain, and grief all combined as he thought back onto what the doctors told him that night. The words came out before he could even think them through.

“If it weren’t for that damned reactor, we’d be holding a baby right now.”

At first, he didn’t think Tony heard him, or that he was too numb to even care, so the weight of his words didn’t hit him; anger had him controlled. Then he saw his husband move, the blankets pushed off of his now frail body and devastation carved into his features. “What did you just say?” was croaked out, the genius’s voice gruff from underuse.

Still going on anger and this unshakeable feeling that he’d been jilted, the blond repeated himself. “The doctors said the Reactor and the Serum were incompatible. If it weren’t for that damned thing, we’d have a child. That and all your damned drinking.”

Tony felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes, unable to believe that the man who vowed to love him in sickness and health had just said that to him. He couldn’t stop the salty drops from building, his sadness making him agitated. “You mean the thing keeping me alive - the object that would have never let me be with you if I hadn’t made it? Our baby’s death is just as much as your fault as mine!”

Steve saw red; if he had been in his right mind, he’d be able to see that his husband was right, but he was furious. “My fault? My DNA is genetically engineered to be perfect. Your father fixed me to fight off everything.”

“Then why did our fucking baby die inside of me? If your DNA is so fucking perfect, why didn’t our kid come out perfect? I hate to break it to you Steve, but you’re not indestructible. You're a science experiment with funny side effects.”

Tony was sobbing now, his voice absolutely raw from yelling. The jab at Steve's insecurity made him snap back into it too late, the full weight of what he’d just said hitting him like Thor’s hammer to the chest. He couldn’t apologize, couldn’t even squeeze a tear out before his husband spoke – and when he did, the waterworks and begging didn’t stop.

“I want a divorce.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt a lot more than I thought it would.  
> Thank you, mystikspiral, for reading it before I posted.  
> Also, if anybody ever has requests, I'd be glad to take them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the angst builds.

Steve had thought that being ignored by the man he loved was the worst feeling in the world, but he was wrong. Being treated like nothing was worse.

For a week, Tony didn’t even look at him. If Steve was in the kitchen, he’d stare right through him until the coffee maker gave him what he wanted; the den he avoided like a plague, should _he_ be sketching there. When he finally started tinkering again, he changed all access codes so that his husband wasn’t allowed to enter. Of course, Steve was also banished to the couch. His room had been taken when Bucky moved into the tower with them, and his best friend offered him the room back, considering he spent most of his time with Natasha in hers, but the blond didn’t accept. He was in the doghouse, and he was going to take the punishment he was given.

When they finally did speak almost a month after the incident, the blond thought that he was going to be forgiven, and that they were going to talk things out. Maybe Tony had listened to his apologies or read the letters he’d slipped under the door, begging and pleading, admitting that he was wrong. All hope left when his husband handed him a thick stack of papers in a manila folder. “Find yourself a good lawyer, Rogers,” was the first he heard from Tony in weeks.

Steve locked himself in the gym after that, saying that he was going to train when he really ended up crying his eyes out. He’d fucked up big time, he knew it, but they could have fix things. They could have talked it over, pushed away the hurt and put themselves back together again. They could have tried, but Tony was still locked away. Maybe he should lock himself away, too. So he did.

Tony was looking for the blond a few days later, wanting to see if he’d already signed the papers, but Steve was nowhere to be found. He asked everyone if they’d seen the supersoldier, but they all had no idea; he’d left the night he got the papers and hadn’t been seen since.  They tried to distract him from it, treat him normally and say they were glad he was up and about, but he ignored it all. Where the hell was his husband?

He was about to call SHIELD and have them search for Steve when he saw something on the coffee table – the blond’s favorite sketchbook. Tony knew he shouldn’t look at it. They were getting a divorce, they weren’t going to be together, and looking at the artist’s work would make things so much worse. Sure, it was his idea to separate, but he still loved Steve – he just didn’t know how he could live with him after something so hurtful.

Against good reason, Tony picked it up, breath hitching when he started going through it. There were all sketches of him – candid, messy ones of him sleeping early in the morning; poses Steve had made him keep for hours because he wanted the perfect piece; crude sketches that he’d tried doing without him knowing; and god, there were so many of Tony with that damned baby bump. Page after page, he traced the lines, remembering how Steve would look at him when he sketched, that unrelenting, loving gaze. It hurt; knowing he was losing him, but there was hope that maybe his husband would still try. Maybe this was a sign that Steve wasn’t going to sign the papers.

He turned the page, expecting to see messy charcoal but instead finding an envelope addressed to him. Tony’s heart beat faster, because this wasn’t thick enough to be divorce papers, and it was in Steve’s neat print. Opening the letter, he read.

 

> _Tony,_
> 
> _I don’t know if you even care anymore, because you do a damn good job and shutting people out, but I’ve left. I packed up my things while you were in the lab – hope you don’t mind that I went in ~~our~~ your room._
> 
> _If you’re reading this, I hope to God that you know everything I’m about to say is serious. I hope that you finally listen to me on this, because I’m convinced you’ve put every one of my other letters in a shredder._
> 
> _I stepped out of line when I blamed you for Howard’s death. I was wrong, and I knew it the second I said it. I hope you know that I’m genuinely sorry about it, but I want you to know where I was coming from._
> 
> _When we lost our son, you pushed me away and mourned in silence. Every kiss I gave you was unreturned, every touch treated like a ghost, every “I love you” unreturned. You carried him, but we both lost him, and I felt like I was losing you, too. It hurt, Tony. More than I could even start to explain._
> 
> _I was lonely, to put it shallowly. I spent every night trying to convince you that we’d be okay, holding you in my arms, telling you we could try again some day and trying to coax you out of your misery. It hit me after a while that I needed that, too. I needed someone who loved me to tell me that I could heal from this. I’d have another chance to be happy. That we could get stronger from this. But I had nobody there._
> 
> _Keeping it inside for so long, I did the wrong thing and lashed out. I said what a husband should never say to the man he loved – hell, what no decent man should ever say. I’m scum for what I did. I know I am. The divorce papers are proof of that._
> 
> _I left because I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t a good enough husband to you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t understand. You’ve made the point that you no longer want me in your life, so I’ve chose to give you what you wanted. It breaks my heart, and I’m smudging up the damn ink because I keep crying, but if you want me gone, it’s done. I’ll send you the papers when I finally get the balls to sign them. But I’m always going to love you, Tony. Nothing could ever stop that._
> 
> _I hope you find another man that won’t say that to you. I hope he treats you better than I could, and doesn’t get on you over the little things as much as I did. I hope he’s normal and doesn’t fuck up your DNA. You deserved so much better than me._
> 
> _If by some chance you want me back, you’ll find me, and God I hope you do. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I don’t think I can be happy without you._
> 
> _I know you won’t, so I wish you the best, Tony. Make things better for yourself._
> 
> _Always yours,_
> 
> _Steve_

Tony’s hands were shaking as he finished reading, and he didn’t realize he was crying until he saw fresh tearstains mixing with Steve’s on the paper - Steve’s tears.

Steve had cried writing this. Steve had left. Steve thought Tony didn’t love him anymore; that Tony really wanted it to be over.

A sob build up in his chest, and he let it out. Tony cried openly for the first time in months, everything he’d been keeping to himself coming out in a tidal wave of emotion. Steve was going to sign the papers, and he was going to lose him for good. What the hell had they done?

Tony didn’t think as he fished his neglected phone out of his pocket and dialed the number he knew by heart, hoping to whatever deity existed that his husband had taken his phone with him. It kept ringing, like the call was being ignored, and the genius cried harder, thinking that Steve wasn’t going to pick up. He was being too loud to realize that the blond had accepted the call.

“Tony? Why-? What’s wrong?” he asked brokenly, his voice obviously thick with tears of his own. God, this was probably going to kill him, but he needed to hear the other man speak.

Pulling it together enough to let out a few words, he sniffled loudly and whimpered. “Letter – and – I can’t – God, Steve, please – I need-“

Tony broke off into another sob, and the blond held his breath, completely in shock. He’d been so convinced that Tony didn’t want him, but this – this was emotion. This was raw, pent up emotion that the brunet had been hiding from him for so long. There was that need to hold him, to protect his lover from the pain like he had from the panic attacks. He needed to be there, not some dingy SHIELD-paid apartment in Brooklyn.

“I – I’ll be over in 15.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if I made any of you cry. I actually couldn't stop while writing this.  
> I promised that it would start getting better.


	4. Chapter 4

A few hours after the call, the couple had seated themselves across from one another in the living room. Steve was sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face; Tony was in an armchair, curled up in a blanket and staring out the window. Neither of them really knew how to proceed – both of them needed to apologize to each other, but they didn’t know where to start. So they sat in silence, occasionally glancing at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

At the same time, Steve let out a sigh and Tony sat up.

“Tony, I –“

“Steve –“

Both men offered each other a small smile; pained at the edges, but still genuine. The genius gestured for his husband to speak, and the super soldier ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out where to start. “I’m sorry.”

Tony nodded at the apology, well aware that the blond was sorry. He had read every single one of Steve’s letters before shredding them – it hadn’t seemed real to him until the other had left. He gestured as if to say, “Continue,” knowing that his husband had a lot more to say than just “sorry.”

Steve nodded absently to himself, making eye contact with Tony before his gaze fell back to his hands. “I made a mistake. I was so angry, and I wasn’t thinking and – now I’m just reiterating everything I said in that letter.” He paused, swallowing slowly before looking back up at his husband, shifting in his seat. “I was hurt and alone, but that’s no excuse for the way that I acted. The fact that I’m here proves that you still love me – and God, I couldn’t have even hoped for that after what I said – but I want to know if you could ever forgive me. If we could try again.” Crystal blues locked on Tony’s brown, his expression almost desperate. He _needed_ his husband to forgive him.

Tony listened intently, watching the soldier fidget as he spoke – so unlike his confident demeanor in combat. Steve only got like this when he was really nervous. He searched the blond’s face for any signs of insincerity; the wounds from their last real encounter were healing, but still fresh. Instead of answering, he spoke quietly looking away from his husband’s eyes to the sketchbook that still remained on the coffee table. “You really hurt me, Steve,” he cracked out, clearing his throat after; his voice was still getting accustomed to being used rather often once again.

Steve’s face fell, and Tony saw immediately, holding a hand up as if to halt his train of thought. “Let me finish. You really hurt me, but I – I wasn’t fair to you. You tried so hard to be there for me but I just felt all those walls and insecurities come up again – and – and it was so hard to let you in. I felt like dying, and what you said – it made me think that I was right to want to. That it really was my fault that we lost him.” The brunet had to stop there for a moment, shutting his eyes to force back the emotions. His body showed no signs of the life it once held, but his mind held every memory to close.

The soldier felt the urge to reach for his husband, but didn’t know if it was even okay for him to do so now. What a fucked up predicament they were in – the one they each needed most was the one hurting the other so terribly. Tony continued where he left off, licking over his lips before speaking.

“I realize it wasn’t either of our faults exclusively. Our DNA just – wasn’t compatible in the end. We weren’t meant to have a kid.”

That line shocked Steve, and he found himself rising to his feet and crossing the room to kneel in front of the brunet’s armchair, taking his hand without a second thought. “No, Tony, that doesn’t mean we weren’t meant to have a kid, we could still –“ He stopped short, trying to figure out where he was going with this. . Would he really ask his husband to go through that again, just so they could have a kid that was truly theirs? Risk another tragedy? Steve let out a heavy sigh, and bowed his head, leaving that thought in the open before it could be expressed.

Tony wasn’t expecting Steve to show him any affection at all, but there he was; and Tony felt that familiar spark he got every time the two of them touched. He shook his head, never wanting to try and conceive again, no matter how much they wanted a family – but he already knew that Steve understood. “I think we should focus on fixing _us_ first,” he mumbled.

The blond looked up at that, searching Tony’s eyes for any sign that he could be misunderstanding what he’d said, but his husband just smiled halfheartedly and nodded.

“I forgive you.”

Without a second thought, Steve was holding Tony, and the brunet was squirming in his grip, trying to gently get him off. “Tony, thank you, I – I love you so much, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”

Realizing it was futile to get out of his husband’s grip, the genius just pat his back lightly. “I don’t know, either. But we aren’t in the clear completely.”

Steve looked up at the brunet understandably, pulling back from Tony and putting his hands in his lap. “Baby steps?” he asked, then cringed – of all the aphorisms, that one just had to be the most accurate.

Tony laughed darkly, but nodded. “Baby steps,” he confirmed, reaching out to run his fingers through blond hair once – making a silly, irrelevant reminder to himself that his husband needed a haircut. “It’s going to be a while until things are back to normal.”

Leaning into the blond’s touch, Steve found that he didn’t care if it took a week, a month, or a year for things to be okay again – he’d wait as long as Tony needed if it meant their lives would be back to normal; as normal as two superheroes could be.

“But they will. And it’ll be even better than before.”

With that promise, Steve kissed the back of his husband’s hand and left to get his things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised it would get better, and here is where it starts. I hope you enjoyed it!  
> If the plot goes on paper as it does in my head, there should be only 2 - maybe 3 - chapters left in this.  
> Let's see how everything wraps up!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a horrible person for disappearing for a few months, but I finally finished this chapter. A lot more progress for Steve and Tony!  
> Enjoy!

Easing into a new routine was the hardest part for Steve and Tony. For a couple like the “super husbands,” it was like trying to fall in love all over again. Steve had moved back into the tower, but the couple still wasn’t sleeping together. Still, the fact they were talking was progress enough – neither of them was going to complain. It was saving their marriage, after all.

The first week, they had a movie night with the team. It was nice – having everybody together – but also awkward. Natasha and Bucky were curled up silently on a loveseat, watching the latest “007” movie with mild interest. Fiction wasn’t as good as their real lives. On an opposite loveseat, Bruce was sitting with a book and Clint’s head in his lap, the smaller man trying to coax his boyfriend to put the book down and pay attention to at least _some_ agent. On the floor, Thor and Loki were seated next to one another, exchanging commentary about the movie – the God of Thunder much more interested than his brother.

This left Steve and Tony on their usual couch, wanting to cuddle and kiss but feeling like it was too soon. They settled for sitting farther apart then normal, casting glances at one another and fingers twitching to hold a hand. Halfway through the film, Steve got the courage to lay his hand out, silently hoping that his husband would take it. The genius stared at pale fingers for a moment, feeling loving, and calloused, hands against Tony’s own – without even making contact. He knew them that well. After a moment’s hesitation, he took Steve’s hand, and the soldier swore that he saw the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Progress.

* * *

 

The following weeks, things stopped feeling so blatantly awkward. They held hands, ate meals together, used pet names, and – best of all, in Steve’s opinion – the blond was granted access to Tony’s lab once more. Conversation was normal, and Steve was back to sketching in his free time. After being banished from the room, seeing his husband at work once more was precious and newly appreciated. He spent way too much time studying the lines of his body, and the way his face was so focused as he tinkered away, but the genius was truly a work of art to him. Later on in the nights, when Steve would have fallen asleep on the couch of their suite, Tony would never admit to it but he’d go through his husband’s sketchbook and smile to himself at all the renderings of himself. This was another reminder that Steve truly loved him.

A few nights later, Tony invited him back to bed, contently falling asleep in his husband’s arms.

* * *

 

Mornings were calming for them, once they began sharing a bed again – they would wake up, Steve would press a kiss to Tony’s forehead, and Tony would kiss his lips sweetly after. After, they’d lay in each other’s arms another moment before Steve went off for his morning run and Tony stayed in bed until breakfast. They’d progressed far enough for mild affection, though they had yet to go farther than innocent kisses. It was still too soon.

This morning marked five months since the miscarriage – neither of them mentioned it, but they both knew. Instead of closing themselves off from each other, they tried to spend the day together at the art museum, checking out an exhibit Steve wanted to see and catching a late lunch. The night was spent in each other’s arms.

Neither of them brought it up vocally, but they knew that they were both crying without a sound, and Steve held his husband closer to him. It was late – so late – but they were finally mourning the loss together, as they should have in the beginning. After a few hours, when the tears finally stopped, they spoke – about the lives they could have had, and how beautiful their baby boy would have been. In that conversation, they both got closure, feeling that it would be easier to move on with their lives now. Whether or not their futures held another child, neither of them wanting to ask right now; though both secretly hoped that the other would be willing to try again.

* * *

 

A week went by as usual, the couple returning to their normal ways of interaction from before the tragedy – though they’d yet to have sex, which was probably what kept them from _feeling_ normal. They’d use to go at it like rabbits.

In matters that were outside of their own lives, the tower was in a much lighter mood for the other members living in its walls. After a very extended period of dating, Bruce had finally proposed to Clint, choosing to settle down with the sarcastic archer that consistently pushed his buttons. Clint had tried to hide how ecstatic he was behind a snarky comment that he “guessed” he could marry Bruce and failed, the grin on his face saying everything.

Steve and Tony had been in the area when it happened, smiling as they watched the scene quietly from a distance. Steve took his husband’s hand, noticing with a smile that he was wearing their wedding ring again. “I remember when I proposed to you.” His smile grew, looking back on that night fondly.

Tony snorted, shaking his head. “That’s a night to remember.”

Raising a brow, the soldier looked up to his husband’s face because he sensed a little sarcasm despite in his tone. “Isn’t it? I made you dinner, made love to you, and proposed with my sketchbook.”

That caused the genius to roll his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, dinner, sex, proposal – it was cheesy, Rogers, and a little cliche.”

Steve frowned, never having thought that his plan was all that dated. But of course, he was going by what would have been sweet in his time and his simplistic natue. Of course his husband had said yes, but maybe he’d wanted something flashier in the Tony Stark realm of things. It was already a few years since then, but he started second-guessing himself.

Had the dinner been too much? He’d made Tony’s favorite meal, along with dessert from scratch and everything. Steve had even lit candles when they ate on their private balcony, a clash from the casual dress that he’d insisted on. Why dress up when they’d end up naked?

And maybe the sex had been too typical for them, but he’d wanted to do it right. Hold Tony close to him as they made love, skin pressed together as though they were a single being. He’d never heard his husband moan so much before that, so he’d thought it was a good round.

Admittedly, maybe he shouldn’t have held Tony in the afterglow and pulled out his calligraphy-written proposal, the ring following once he’d retrieved it from its hiding place under his pillow. Steve had wanted to keep it simple, but maybe what the brunet had wanted was more razzle-dazzle than he was personally comfortable with.

It was safe to say that, in that moment, he’d begun to irrationally wonder if things had been bad from the start.

Seeing the way his husband was thinking – brow furrowed, pout and all that – Tony knew that he was making him overanalyze. He rolled his eyes playfully, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze. “I never said I didn’t like it. A little cliché is nice, once in a while.”

The blond blinked for a second as he let the words sink in, but smiled when he processed that his husband really did remember the night fondly. He didn’t respond, just leaned in to kiss his forehead before turning his attention back to the newly engaged couple.

* * *

 

Wedding plans started to be made, Tony having very active duties as Bruce’s Best Man – planning the wedding, finding a venue, making Bruce pick out colors and form a guest list and basically everything because Clint was no help at all. As a joke, he had tried to convince Bruce to have a bachelor party with strippers and liquor – the whole shebang – but he knew neither of them really wanted that. The groom-to-be had never showed an interest in dancers, and Tony was still getting himself back in the swing of things.

Natasha, of course, planned a whole evening for Clint, taking him out with a few of their other teammates to a club. Steve was invited, but declined. He wouldn’t be much fun, sitting back and averting his gaze while the others tried to have a good time. So for the first time in a while, he was alone in the tower. Bucky had a mission, so he wasn’t around, and Tony had gone somewhere with Bruce for whatever he’d decided would constitute as a bachelor party replacement. Or so he’d assumed.

About half an hour after the others had left, the elevator doors opened and Steve looked up from where he’d been reading on the couch. When Tony stepped out, he stood, very confused as to what his husband was doing here. “You’re home.” Came out more like a question than a statement.

The brunet shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. “I updated Bruce’s lab as his gift, and he got too wrapped up in his research. So I came back – figured I’d let him get some work done before Clint became a permanent distraction.” Grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses, he settled down on the couch.

Despite the fact Steve couldn’t feel the buzz of alcohol, he sat back down and accepted a glass of red wine when offered. “I thought I was going to be alone tonight – figured you found some way to entertain yourself.”

Tony let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Like hell. Can you imagine Bruce in a strip club? He’d get tense and Hulk out if a guy tried sneaking up on him.”

Of course, it was also that small fact that Steve hadn’t touched him sensually in months, so a stranger really shouldn’t, either. “Where’s everyone else?”

Taking a sip of the wine, Steve savored the taste like Tony had taught him to before swallowing. “Out at Clint’s bachelor party. I decided to stay home.”

The genius let a small smirk play at his lips, taking a gulp of wine that he knew shouldn’t just be swallowed down like that, but he needed to loosen up a bit. Not that he could ever get drunk off of wine. “I remember our bachelor party.”

Steve smiled slightly, remembering how much had happened that night. “Me, too.” He draped one arm over the back of the couch, inviting Tony to curl up to him. “There was that stripper that kept trying to take you home with her.”

Tony laughed, and moved to press himself against Steve’s side, sipping at his wine more casually now. “You were so pissed. Kissed me right in front of her to make her back off.” He bit his lip, remembering what had happened when they got home from the club that night. “Like you had to remind me who I wanted to be with.”

Steve looked down at Tony, a light blush barely appearing on his cheeks. “She was star-chaser dressed in leather and crawling in your lap, and I was your fiancé. I didn’t appreciate that I could hear all the things she wanted you to do to her off the clock.” He could still picture it – a busty blond straddling Tony, practically pressing herself to him as lingerie clung to her body and left nothing for the imagination. He could also still remember the jealousy.

Smirking slightly, Tony reached up to brush over the color on his husband’s cheek, his heart beating a bit faster as he really focused on the memory. “So you did them all to be instead.”

The blush on Steve’s cheeks deepened – not because of embarrassment, but because this was the first time they were even breaching the subject of sex in months, and he wanted to say something but didn’t want to scare him off.

“Every single thing,” he mumbled, reaching out to tentatively stroke over Tony’s bottom lip, getting that urge to kiss him.

The brunet froze for a moment at the touch, knowing where both of their thoughts were heading. He had this impulse to recoil, to laugh it off and change the subject to something funny that happened at their ceremony, but he didn’t. It had been ages since they’d talked like this, and it hit him then that he’d missed it. Almost hesitantly, his lips closed around Steve’s thumb, tongue teasing over it for a moment before he pulled back.

“My memory’s a little fuzzy on it. Could you – remind me what happened?”

Steve held his breath, knowing exactly what his husband was asking for. He half expected Tony to laugh it off and say ‘just kidding, I’m not ready’ or cringe away from his touch like every time their kisses started getting too heated. His words seemed genuine, however, so he swallowed and looked down at him.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, not wanting to risk taking a step back in his relationship with Tony.

Tony nodded, licking over his lips before pulling his husband into a kiss that held more passion than he’d felt in months.

“I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the smut can begin.  
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for all of the angst that I have inflicted upon readers, and I also apologize for the first chapter being so brief. There will be much more to come, and I promise that there will be a light in this situation for our favorite heroes. The others will be introduced as the story continues.


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